Play Nice, Play Pharah
by loatist
Summary: Jamie is new to Overwatch, but spots something that immediately keeps him hooked into the opportunity. Unfinished
1. chapter 1

Play Nice, Play Pharah

Chapter 1

Jamison Fawkes was shocked when he was accepted into the recalling of Overwatch. Of course, he knew he could get some kind of reward or... reimbursement for his "bravery". Some medal he could sell off for a good bit of cash to some collector, even. When he arrived via Pelican to Watchpoint Gibraltar, he watched waves crashing over rocks and pairs and groups of war heroes walking together, speaking as they traveled into the main "watchpoint" room. As the Pelican airship perched itself near a cliff close to the base, the door lowered as a ramp to exit. Fawkes and his silent partner, Roadhog, exited, the latter taking in the area.

As the pair arrive near the main base, with the PA system around the base calling for all heroes to assemble in the main meeting room, Jamison hears the sound of jets. He turns to see this shiny hunk of metal in the shape of a person soaring through the air before, perching at a ledge and using some form of rocket to push herself towards the base at high speeds. The figure lands on one knee, standing and removing its helm, reminiscent of a blue hawk. Jamison stands in awe of this beautiful, explosive THING, although apprehensive of it being an omnic...until seeing a stunning, tan-skinmed woman with raven hair uneunder the helm. He can hardly contain his admiration and excitement, until he is shoved by his partner towards the building with an annoyed grunt from the beastly man. Reluctantly, Junkrat heads inside with a sneer, following the woman in, watching the sway of her hips, the attentive, military posture and strut. Fawkes had yet to even glimpse at the face of this shimmering, sapphire-coated goddess before him. Of course, with his nature, he tended to blow things like his emotions and experiences out of proportion in reaction.

Within the walls of the meeting room, dozens of heroes, old and new, sat at the stairs, the meeting table, or stood against walls or wherever they could. Winston, the mighty [scientist] with a mind as strong as him, stood at the top of the room, at the second floor of the building. This fierce creature the junker familiarized himself with almost all physicalities of, within her suit, jetted onto a tire Winston had set up for himself, standing on it and holding the rope. The shadows of the room still hid herface from the impatient man. As Winston began to speak, Hog listened in as Jamison fawned over the shining lady from a distance, sitting at a table with his head in his hands.

Once the meetig was called to a close, all members were called to receive their bed numbers, for the bunker beneath the base where all the crew would have to sleep. Jamison was hoisted by his piggy friend roughly and carried under his arm, the bed number in the other thick hand of the man. the woman dismounted the tire and Junkrat frantically squirmed to see her face, only to be blocked by the meaty arm of Hog. Yelling at the hefty man with no response, he was taken to the men's barracks and sat down on his bed, where all of his dirty, smoky, musty equipment was unloaded from the Pelican. Hog's bed was next to Rat's, beside it were crates of shrapnel and metal scraps, ammunition for Hog's gun. Junkrat had his crates of bombs, encased in fancy metal boxes (or, ballistic cases) courtesy of Overwatch, mainly given due to safety precautions.

"Why didya rip me outta there?!" squawked the stickly Aussie, with heavy agitation. "That sheila was practically callin' my name! 'Oohh Jamie, Jamie come blow up my ass like it ain't a soul's business, ah got pretty haaaair!'," He bitched and whined to Roadhog's uncaring stare. "Don't," the man huffed. "DON'T WHAT, GO AFTER SOME SEXY BITCH BLOWIN' HER ARSE ALL CROSS THE BASE AND WALKING LIKE SHE OWNS THE PLACE?! She's practically made for me but if you insist fine, I won't go after her just yet. I'll be noice and subtle. Then I'll fuck the shit outta her. Don't women like that kinda thing anyway? GREAT IDEA ROADIE, KNEW OI COULD COUNT ON YOU!". At the resolve, Roadhog stared at him, not another word, knowing that Rat would resolve his inner quarrels himself.

Later that evening, Jamison heard distant explosions a good distance from the edge of the base. He walked out, unbeknownst to Mako, and out the back of the base. The woman zipping through the air behind the base and over the sunset sea, training bots soaring around 50-100 meters from her. She held a heavy rocket launcher, blasting away every one without fail. Next thing, when she had landed, he decided to be suave, standing with a dandelion in his teeth at his insane 7' foot stature. Rat leaned himself up against a wall, right in front of her. He smelled of gasoline and burnt rubber, like a run down yet busy petrol station. "The namesh Jamishon Fawksh," The man purred at her through his teeth and past the foul taste of dirty flower stem. The woman rolled her eyes behind her visor, removing her helmet, faking a smile. Jamie gawked and dropped the flower from his mouth in surprise. Catching it quickly, he held it to the woman. "My name is Fareeha Amari. It's nice to meet another one of our...soldiers..." attempting at her niceties and taking the flower underneath the head of it, where it wasn't tainted with unwashed spittle." The Rat chuckled his crazy, high pitched giggle and attempted to contain it to be smooth. He slicked his hair back with the grease of his metal hand, holding his real one out to her to shake at the least. "On shauntay, Fareeha!" Junkrat butchered the French word with a hefty accent. "Yes, well, it was very nice meeting you, I need to head to my barracks." Pharah quickly responded, curtly shaking the dirty hand, "The showers are over there if you need them, I've heard you dont have much running water in Junkertown." He knew he didnt need any showers, he had a very protective layer of filth. Maybe it was a sign she wanted him clean? Girls like frilly smellin' things don't they? Well, it was up for consideration. For now, he would focus on the unrivaled beauty of his new favorite...anything. He truly adored this Fareeha, although mostly physical...well, completely physical. She walked away quickly, in that same stride she had earlier, and he watched her ass. Lovingly. Probably lovingly. Jamison didn't quite care and headed off to the showers.


	2. chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jamison jostled himself to consciousness bright and early this morning. He marched himself, nice and clean from his nighttime shower, out towards the back of the base. It was dawn, the night shift guards were replaced by day shift guards. 6 AM.

Once clocks struck 8, wakeup alarms sounded. The girls began unloading from their barracks with their little plastic trays of toiletries, as instructed over the PA system, and a towel, to the showers. Regardless of the reference, they were full bathrooms with rows and sinks, showers, toilets, and in the men's case, urinals too.

Jamie stood outside of the door, leaning against the wall next to the doorway and attempting to look suave for his dear, sweet, glistening kestrel. He even took a shower for her, to smell nice of course. Even so, he still wore the pajamas that Overwatch provided him due to his being very radioactively contaminated. They consisted of a long, somewhat baggy white tee and dark blue sweatpants Girls went by one by one, most too groggy to notice him, Mei passing him and giving an unfriendly glare and pout. A couple more girls went by, and finally, Pharah appears. Her hair was tied back messily, the front strands bound by her usual locs. Her least favorite rat was pleased to see that the symbol under her eye wasn't makeup, but a tattoo! Only real badasses have face tattoos, right?

" 'Ello there, my dear Fareeha!" Jamie squawked out at the half-awake woman. She halted in her tracks defensively, gasping. The line of three women behind he all crashed into one another. At the very end was Zarya. She stepped aside embarrassed, and glared at the taller man jn front of her. "I'm not going to have this." She growled. Jamison looked at the bouquet of damaged daisies he had picked in his hand. "Oi, I mean its the best I could find but it ya say so.."

"No, _Junkrat_." Fareeha had some awful venom to her voice. "I've heard plenty enough about you and your "line of work". I refuse to be some partner of yours off the battlefield. Do I make myself **clear**?" The firmness in her voice, such a strong woman, physically and behaviorally. Pharah was only in a white tanktop and dark blue, cloth shorts with a white drawstring. She was toned just enough to be insanely impressive to the Junker. The scolding only seemed to riled up the junker more, all red in the face and chuckling some wild giggle. "Oh-ho-ho, CRYSTAL!".

A moment after, he heard heavy steps climb the stairs from the women's barracks. Someone big.

"Oi Roadie? That you down there, you sly dog!" turning to peek down the steps, only to be greeted face to face with Commie Thunder. The woman who could shatter a mountain, a Russian legend rivaling Rasputin himself, and she looked angry.

The night prior, Pharah sat on her bed, next to Mei's, and across from Aleksandra's. They both sat up and listened as she talked about the Junker's flirty approach. She sounded a bit flattered but disgusted. Still, she continued to refer to him as Jamison and once she described him, the cheery pink in Mei's cheeks drained. "Oh no, Fareeha..." Mei wasn't scared to interrupt. "What? What's wrong?"

"An Australian like that..He's probably the most horrible man here. I recently traveled to Australia to investigate the weather created due to radiation. The city at safest distance from the storms was called Junkertown. There were very few rules, but one was that Junkrat wasn't allowed inside. I asked around about him and I was given a description that fits his very well...I've heard so many different stories about how he came to be banned from such an awful, crime-ridden place. Things like him planting bombs on other Junkers who were going into the main square, or brutalizing a whole bar full of people, and the worst rumor was that he had...raped their queen."

Pharah's eyes went wide in shock and distress, worried at what she may have had forced upon her and what may still be. Zarya stood up and walked over to the foot of her bed and squatted in front of her. "I refuse to let such a vile man come near you with any force. He's nothing but scum, don't give in to his demands, don't let him force himself onto you. I will crush him if you ever need." Her eyes were wide and wild, practically crazed, and stared Fareeha dead in the eyes. "Oh..Okay...thank you, comrade." Pharah forfeited. She at least felt safe.

Safety, right now, was far from the Junker who was practically shitting himself on the spot. He reared his head away from the doorway, shrinking up into the corner he was very close to. "O-Oh hello comrade!" The rat attempted to not...offend this bear of a woman any further. She had that wild look on her face again.

 **"If you touch my friend here, we will have a misunderstanding. That would be very unfortunate for you."**

"oh" He peeped meekly.

 **"If it happens, I will crush you. I hope that is understandable."**

This kinda of stern and intimidating was just terrifying, much less sexy. "N-No, haha! She was just telling me not to act all randy around her, message received, won't happen again, ma'am!" Smiling widely, nervously, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he trembled. Quickly, he ran away to the men's barracks.

"I have your back, comrade!" She smiled at Pharah happily, one hand on her hip and one at Pharah's eye level, her friend shaken at the intensity that her Russian ally brought to the table.

"High five, comrade!"

"Oh, right...thank you, Aleksandra." Fareeha obliged and clapped her palm to Zarya's, met with her hand being firmly held on to.

"I can break him."

"O-Oh I think he gets the message, hopefully he'll be a bit more platonic if anything now, no worries its...its fine.."

"I can, I will if you tell me." She kept that wild look through her smile. Then, proceeding to release her friend's hand.

"Come along, we must go bathe and stretch and prepare for the day, dear comrade!"

Pharah was frightened by the behavior and insistence, but decided not to comment, following her friend to the showers. Zarya simply sees that since Ana isn't around, she would be a strong... "feminine" figure in Fareeha's life. Even though unrequested.

Back in the barracks, Junkrat sat across from his friend. Roadhog sat on the side of his bed in his comedically-sized-to-fit boxers and listened to the rat prattle on about how his woman was being stolen by some crazy, butch, commie superlesbian. "I mean, maybe I should give her some space, but she might just be playing hard to get! This just means I'll have to be more...subtle. Act more friendy-like. Not try to get into her pants, she ain't like them girlies back home. Real upstanding."

Roadie huffed once. He breathed in a bit harder and stared at his friend through his mask, pausing.

"Why do you smell like baby shampoo, Jamison."

(AN: Hey. Ive seriously been enjoying writing this, but I lost my original document to the second chapter. This won't be as good but if Im able to get it again, Ill definitely re-post the second chapter how it was meant to be read. Any criticisms, positive or negative are welcome.)


	3. chapter 3

Chapter 3

After the incident with the Russian, Jamison had backed off for about a month. Of course, he admired Pharah from afar(ah), and during training he always tried being as impressive as can be. Whenever she was nearby he tried sounding intelligent and talked about his work with explosives. All the while, she was constantly disgusted by him. She could only imagine the worst, that he was some sadistic serial rapist, and was terrified of being approached by him alone.

Jamison had made fast friends with many of the men in his barracks despite the neuroticisms he had. They all got to know the truth about why he was kicked out of Junkertown and respected him all the more for it. To them, he was just a mad scientist, yet mad in a great way. The women were total opposite im their opinion towards the Rat. They were all convinced he was evil as sin, one way or another.

Regardless of romantic and fraternal pursuits, they all still had a job to do. It was time for the recently reformed Overwatch to pursue their first mission: to retake an old base near Numbani which had been overtaken by Talon, and was a base of operations for recent terrorist attacks on the city. Jamie was eager as all hell to test out his latest creation: the Rip-Tire, which Winston, after much testing gave in to approve of field use.

Some of the more untrained recruits were asked to stay behind, and everyone else loaded onto Pelicans. Mei, Lucio, Zenyatta (who accompanied Genji), and a few others stayed due to the order. The hardier types were ready, and the long flight to the Numbani base began.

About 3 nerve wracking hours pass, and Junkrat is practically exploding with nervous energy, so bombastically prepared to go he could burst. "Maybe now it'll be my time to shine... I've been real patient, but today's the day I might finally impress that wonderful woman, oi?" He kept his voice down, speaking towards Hog, but he may as well have been talking to himself. It was like talking to a brick wall.

Once near the base, Commander Morrison, now known as Soldier: 76 stands before them and goes over battle plans...Which Junkrat is not a part of a majority of, to his great dismay. Roadhog was still put towards the near front of battle though. Regardless of how they came to Overwatch together, the organization wasn't scared to split them up in battle. This gave Jamison a pang of fear, though. Regardless of Mako's bodyguard position, he still knew he would stick up with his mate. They was partners. It was insane to split them up, but Hog didnt object, and Jamie knew better than to speak for him in a situation like this. There was also a pang of jealousy, since Jamie was left to be the "C4 man", only there to stick a bomb to some doors and blow it open. Such a cruel fate for Overwatch's mad scientist.

They arrive and operatives at the front begin entering, Pharah was at the back, meant to provide anti-aircraft defense for any escaping aircraft with her rockets. As Hog leaves, Jamie pats him on the back and meekly wishes him luck, worried for his friend. Jamison took note as he left the ship, to see Pharah left, thoroughly disgruntled at the fact he couldn't even have a chance to impress her. Still, he would make her proud enough if he lived, in his eyes.

The mission goes off without a hint of a hitch. This is true, until there are the sounds of jets and rockets outside of the now mostly quiet and Overwatch-occupied base. Multiple explosions go off, but to no avail. Pharah cries out over the commlink "A jet has launched from the base, I wasn't able to hit it! It was so fast! It couldnt have been able to hold more than 6 or 8 passengers. No others seem to be launching."

Regardless of the outcome, upon the return home, Winston opened up Gibraltar's bar, only ever opened after a mission. All the metal furniture except the chairs was nailed down, but it was still cozy enough. The bar was fully stocked and self-serviced, to the delight of many of Overwatch's serving crew. Within the edge of the night, everyone who was drinking was hammered, and anyone who wasn't was either incredibly amused or annoyed. Fareeha was the latter. Junkrat stood in front of a sizeable table of his male companions, telling stories of grandeur, and Zarya drunkenly, but openly remarks, "I do not understand how you all can stand listening to such a villain. I've even heard he's a rapist, or a terrorist. How can you even listen to or entertain such a villain?" The men went pretty quiet. Junkrat was drunk enough himself to speak up to the might mountain of woman defying his legacy. "OooaaaaaI'll have ye know oi haven' done much but hate some filthy omnics, like the rest of us! If this it oll about Junkertown, oi can tell you the whole story!" The men perked up again and some cheered on his story. All in the bar had their eyes on Jamison, men and women, besides Hog, who personally was affected by having to leave Junkertown with his companion. The lanky Aussie stood up on the large table, dominating the large barhall.

This was one of his favorite stories.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

In his drunken stupor, slurring heavily, and his vocalizing even more abrasive than usual, Jamie told his tale of wonder and betrayal.

The Junkers held yearly mech battling championships, no outsiders allowed due to unfair advantage. Talks of dethroning Queen's mech champ title buzzed in the sour, dry air, one fateful year. Talks of local mech builders and their usual "secret weapons that would wreck Queen's mech!" which all had been null when the time came. The queen, however, had sought out assistants every year. Those who could help improve her mech with her ideas, make them a reality.

In the lowliest of bars lingered Junkrat and Roadhog, feared yet respected amongst the locals. In stomp some well-dressed, yet beefy gentleman (well-dressed being not horridly torn or makeshift clothing, nor badly dirt-stained). They went and surrounded the dynamic duo, staring them down, before the frontmost one tells them that they've been requested as audience for Her Majesty. Of course, off they went to her lovely abode, which was just a much bigger run-down shack than everyone elses, with a large, rickety garage attached.

The Queen sat upon a tall barstool at the counter of her kitchen. It was a nice place on the inside, real nice, barely a sign of the outside in there. You know, besides her glorious bosom-ness. She did have some great tits, but more about that later. She requested Junkrat become one of her newest mechworkers, testing new ways to add on to her mechanical battlesuit. He seemed to be the next best scientist to hire than a legitimate scientist or actual demolitions and explosives expert, since they were a bit short on a radioactive wasteland like Oz.

Junkrat had plenty of ideas racing, wondering if he may be able to get in on the Queen's hidden treasure cache, like her spoils from previous mech battles. And this is just what she offers: a hefty reward in cash, a repayment for a win. Only if she wins though. The Queen made it extremely clear how losing wasn't an option coolly, and sultry in an extremely intimidating manner. The junkers shuddered, as even Roadhog was shaken by the woman. He knew he couldnt hold off against every single bloomin' one of her hired men.

Within a month, the Queen surely won her mech battle championship with the help of a small atomic missile able to propel the enemy mech upwards into the air several hundred feet. Of course, didn't mean no one was effected by the radiation, but no one much cared at that point. That night, the Queen was slammed in her home, and had called Junkrat in to celebrate with her privately.

That was something she regretted much later.

She came onto him, both horrendously drunk, and they apparently had wild sex.

She proceeded to send Junkrat and Roadhog out of the city in shame for touching anyone like him. She's the queen, and supposed to be untouchable, not someone who just gets slammed with a maniac and slams the maniac. She's supposed to have more class, and he was sent out.

The men listening all chuckled heartily to the story, through Jamison's thick slurring and occasional wild, foreign, slang usage. Mei sat flustered in the corner, Zarya and Pharah staring at her unimpressed.

Jamie had the confidence of an eagle that night, knowing he'd shoo away the rape accusations. If that was rape, it was a double-sided rape and it's essentially evened out.

Soon it would be his chance to try to move in on Fareeha, he was an innocent man once again.


End file.
